The Feminine Me
by Delectable Desires
Summary: Alanna is bound and determined to show Jon she can be a lady and a feminine one at that. So she sets off to Corus to prove him wrong and make him see. But to maintain his attraction, she must hide her identity. And once she invokes the help of George. . .
1. Chapter 1

Alanna the Lioness glanced around the bustling Bazhir village then at the campfire where they held their meetings with the Voice. She sighed dejectedly. Jonathon was being cruel. She cursed as tears sprung forth at the mere thought of him. She should have known he'd never be faithful to her. She had realized a long while ago that she was only a pawn in Jon's glamorous life; a meager pawn that he used without remorse until today. Alanna wiped away her foolish tears. She wouldn't easily forget how he had frivolously toyed with her heart and emotions. He had hurt her without considering any reprocussions.

The knight walked to the worn tent from where the smoke rose and, after stopping at the entrance to hear if anyone was speaking to the prince, stepped inside. No one had been talking, so she presumed that this confrontation was over. She was wrong. Instantly and unstoppably, the Voice overtook her mind.

_Alanna? _Jon asked quietly, almost meekly. Alanna felt the tears fall down her face again. Dammit! She wouldn't respond. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction_. Alanna, tell me why you're crying. Please, I'm worried about you. _Alanna laughed bitterly in disbelief. Unbelievable!

_Worried about me? If you were worried, dear prince, you certainly haven't shown it well. How can you even dare to tell me you care after you've taken up a betrothed less than a month after I left? _Alanna spat venomously. He was so oblivious to emotion. She felt as if she were berating a young boy._ You don't care. You don't have a heart capable of compassion. I loved you, damn it! And this is how I'm repaid. I will never love again, Prince Jonathon of Conte, and you should pray that this isn't the last time we meet because I will try my hardest to stay away from the mutiny and betrayal that men of power, like yourself, fall so easily too. My love isn't a luxury meant to be played with, Prince, and I don't take replacement easily. Good night and Good RIDDANCE! _

The woman stormed violently from the tent and fled to the stable where she fell onto Moonlight and cried softly into her fur, embarrassed by the fact that tears she had refused to shed now fell down her cheeks. That night she slept in the barn. The next morning, without explanation, she bid the Bazhir farewell and wished the best to her apprentices before she rode north, back to Corus and back to her life she refused to abandon for fear of confronting the Prince. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of intimidating her. Halef Seif told her his concern for her troubles but she brushed them aside and wished him luck before departing. She would be fine.

It was nearly sunset as Alanna arrived back at Corus. It had been a virtually effortless trip. She rode alone but she saw few other travelers and the summer climate had brought the land to a comfortable temperature. Approaching the familiar checkpoint, she covered her shield and tousled her hair, hoping the guards would not recognize her. They didn't and Alanna sighed as she kept her eyes on the ground, knowing that if she stared at anyone and they stared back her cover would be blown. The only sound rest of the way to Eleni Cooper's house was the clop of Moonlight's shoes meeting the marketplace brick.

The old woman proved to, once again, be more than eager to host her. Alanna loved this woman and had begun to think of her as a mother figure. She stabled Moonlight and bathed, scrubbing the dirt from her skin as a small consequence of traveling. Moving to her newly-given room, Alanna paused as she reached for her tunic. No. A wicked thought arose in her mind. She could play games like Jon did. Two could play his game. Tucking away her breeches, Alanna pulled on the unfamiliar folds of front-tying corset. Tying it tightly to accentuate her dress, she added a mauve dress and a brunette wig from the closet. Then, she sat to speak with Eleni. The old woman pretended gracefully not to notice her costume, but she knew better. Something was afoot and Alanna was going to lead it. They spoke cheerfully enough, however, until Eleni aroused the subject of Lady Josiane.

Not long after, Alanna excused herself and went to bed, falling into a restless sleep as she tossed and turned with anxiety and anticipation. Tomorrow was the day. Faithful understood, but still howled with annoyance every time she shifted and he was thrown off her chest or laid on. Eventually he stormed off, out the window and onto the roof. She didn't blame him. Wearily, she flipped her pillow and gazed out the window. Her eyes grew heavy and this time, she stayed asleep.

She awoke late the next morning, just as the shops were opening, and she found herself spending the day browsing through delicate, expensive jewelry and equally expensive dresses. Alanna laughed in spite of herself. Jon was so horribly wrong. She could be a woman. She just needed the chance to prove herself. If his Josiane was a woman, Alanna was going to have to outdo a princess. So she purchased what she considered necessary and she pranced dantily back to Eleni Cooper's home. She would be a duchess when she emerged and she was going to win Jon's heart, no matter the cost.

She reappeared as more than a duchess. She reappeared as a goddess of love, winning the amorous hearts of young men as she walked down the streets. Alanna sat properly at Eleni's table in a bright orange, velvet dress, grinning wickedly at the memory of a man this morning who had tripped on his own feet because he was staring at her so fixedly. Her dress was laced with gold and her fake wig matched perfectly. She decided on the black wig but trimmed it so it would be unrecognizable to Jon. Her jewelry sparkled blissfully in the midday sun, refracting a rainbow of colors on Eleni's walls. On her neck lay a string of pearls centered with an orange gem, magicked to shine profusely to attract attention. Her earrings were fool's gold with a pearl at the end atop the same kind of orange gem. She was unrecognizable to herself. But, to add to the chaos that was taking place in her appearance, a lacy shawl (which was overkill in Alanna's mind) was also present thanks to Eleni.

Even with this elaborate ruse, Alanna didn't feel comfortably disguised until she looked into the mirror and forced her eyes gray with the Gift. Her lilac eyes were the window to her soul and a very distinguishable feature. She turned to face Eleni, who was close to tears from admiring her loveliness.

"You look so beautiful, my dear. Why, the prince would be a fool if he doesn't run to you at once and beg you to marry him." Alanna grinned and hugged her in a way similar to Myles. Eleni was, without question, the matronly figure of her life. As Alanna filled up her pouch with coins (she couldn't go poor to the palace as a noble) a knock came to the door. George entered and gave a glance at his mother and then stared oddly and with a peculiar face at Alanna.

"Forgive me, Madam, but I seem to be under your trance." He kissed her hand with a grin and bowed as she curtsied in custom. But as soon as Alanna met eyes with Eleni, they both broke into a loud round of hysterical laughter.

"What is so funny, ma? What have I done to amuse ye so?" George asked, bewildered. He didn't understand in the least. Alanna stepped foreword to explain after wiping away a tear of amusement.

"George Cooper, look into my eyes." And as she said this, they locked gazes and his eyes widened as they turned from the heather gray to their normal purple color. He gasped and then laughed, understanding at last the mirth. He embraced her and kissed her cheek respectfully.

"Alanna, you are ravishing as always. What honor is bestowed upon me, that a thief like myself may call you, a true noble lady, all genteel and such, a friend?" Alanna laughed and hugged him again. She pulled away with a devilish grin.

"George, how quickly could you become a noble?" She asked with a mischievous tone. George raised an eyebrow, understanding her train of thought and then vanished, into the street, soon to return as a lord. Together Alanna knew they could and _would_ face Jonathon. She also knew that Jon would pay more attention to her if she was harder to get. Everything was working perfectly. . . .


	2. Chapter 2

Prince Jonathon of Conte sat in the lively courtyard on a bench next to the waterfountain. He sighed audibly. He was lucky he was alone. There was no one to chide or nag him. This was the place where he and Alanna used to sit together. He had been struck with inner turmoil ever since their conversation during Voice. He felt guilty and he wanted to make things better, even if only for his own conscience. But he would most likely never see her again. He'd single-handedly lost the best fighter his father had. Sighing again, he brushed a hand over his weary face. A rustle of light footsteps sounded before him. He glanced up and gained a sickeningly fake smile as his betrothed, Josiane, came from the east wing of the castle. He didn't love her. Truth be told, he barely liked her. But in an act of foolish haste, he had chosen the first candidate to get revenge against Alanna. How stupid he had been!

Josiane sat beside Jon after greeting him with a kiss and began to jabber the latest gossip and attempted in vain at small talk. Jon didn't hear a word. Slowly the Nobles made their way in. He hoped that soon Raoul or Gary or Alex would come save him from his misery. Josiane didn't seem to take notice to his lack of attention and she soon had a posse of woman standing around them snickering and hissing at Josiane's snide remarks. Jon groaned.

But then, something caught his eye. He gazed over at a woman in an orange dress who was poised on the arm of an unfamiliar Noble. He stood and left to greet them without excusing himself, causing a slight panic and silence in the group of women around Josiane. But Josiane nervously cast it off, pretending to ignore the rude gesture. She resumed the chatter while she carefully kept Jon in her peripheral vision.

The prince bowed in front of the couple as the raven haired woman curtsied back with her cheeks a bit flushed. Jon glanced at the Noble, thinking he looked familiar somehow. But he knew that he had never seen this woman before in his life. She was beautiful—he would've remembered.

"Highness?" The woman asked, regaining his attention. "May I present my chaperone, Sir William of Delon, and myself, Lady Faye of Trighton Court. It is a wonderful pleasure to meet our kingdom's heir." The lady spoke softly yet with strength Jon couldn't quite describe. He was impressed by her blatant audacity. She dared to introduce herself, let alone her male companion.

"Believe me, my lady, the pleasure is completely mine." He kissed her hand as he bowed once again and Alanna began to feel a knot of anxiety form in her stomach. She could feel George squirm beside her in discomfort as Jon swooned over her. She suddenly felt bad for dragging him into this. It was wrong of her. He was probably going to end up getting hurt. She turned to him in an attempt to remove him from this scene, for both their sakes.

"My lord, take leave awhile. I believe there are a number of women staring at you over in that huddle off yonder, no?" George smiled weakly, still a bit wary and solemn from Jonathon's forward affections.

"Of course, my dear." He used the best Noble accent he could obtain, though his usual twang hung lightly on his words. He touched her arm lightly and then stepped away, over to the group of women Alanna had suggested he join. Jon stuck out his arm and Alanna took it, slightly disappointed that he hadn't recognized her. He obviously didn't know her as well as she'd expected or he would've recognized her face, her body, and her mannerisms. He brought her to the bench near the rose bushes, where they had always sat before. _Obviously, _Alanna thought, _this must be his where he woos all his women. _

"So, my Lady Faye, what brings you to the Palace? Or to Corus for that matter? I don't believe I've ever seen you before." He paused, pursing his lips. "Or your escort. I take it you're new to the city?" Jon asked, turning to face her on the bench. His hands covered hers on her lap. He was getting good at attracting the princesses, surely this girl would be just as simple.

"Well, Highness, I fear that I come as a scout for the Bazhir. They wish to know what the palace is like and if the royals are doing their jobs. My intentions are to find out." Jon grinned and chuckled. Alanna smiled back softly. He was amused.

"Oh, really? Then you should know, I'm the voice of the Bazhir." Now he was getting cocky. Alanna smirked back.

"So I've heard. They take very fondly to you in the villages." The tone in her voice expressed the sarcasm that dripped off her words. Jon laughed loudly, indifferent of who heard. He liked this girl. He liked her more than Josiane, and he had just met her. Not to mention he was exceedingly attracted to her. He stood and took her arm and they left the courtyard, wandering into the castle where Jon gave her an unnecessary tour. She knew these walls like the back of her hand. But, nonetheless, she gasped in all the right places and acted interested as a proper lady should. After all, she was noblewoman now.

As they reached the door to Jonathon's quarters she grinned slightly. He was going to try and take her to his room. She yawned and stopped walking, pulling her arm away from the link it had with his. He turned around, startled.

"What is it, my lady?" He asked, and Alanna saw the panic on his face. He hadn't expected hesitation. Princes usually got wht they wanted.

"I do so very much thank you for the time you've spent showing me the castle, highness, but I fear I must return to my lord. We are to depart back to the Bazhir at dawn. It's been a pleasure, Prince, and I thank you, but I must go now." And with that, she curtsied and kissed his hand before turning and walking away. He stood bemused for a moment, then chased after her, just as the Lioness expected him to do. It was almost pathetic.

"Leaving Corus, at dawn? So soon? Are the Bazhir so quickly contented? Why at dawn, why not leave at the hour of noon, when all is lively and bustling?" Alanna smirked. That wouldn't make any sense. He was making the assumption that she knew nothing of traveling and its quirks. She turned to face him, still keeping her pace.

"My lord, if we leave at dawn no other man and his pack will be there to bother us. It we were to leave at noon, the streets will be full with people and vendors and thieves." Alanna felt her heart flutter in relief as the courtyard came into view. George turned and stared blankly at them as the prince spoke pleadingly. Alanna felt her stomach drop. He'd been waiting this entire time. For her. She'd made him waste hours talking to women he wasn't interested in.

"I know the King of thieves personally. I could swear to you that no one will empty your purses." Jon assured her. George laughed as he stepped to them.

"So could I, my liege. Mr. Cooper happens to be a fmily friend. But I fear we must be going. Ala-, uh, Faye, are you ready to return home?" Alanna smiled and nodded, gracefully taking his arm. Jon stood dumbly before them, searching his mind for a reason to stall her departure.

"Please, I'm asking you as a man besotted with your beauty." George scoffed as Alanna jabbed his ribs in protest. "Meet me here tomorrow and I'll have guards personally escort you when you choose to leave. At anytime you please. Just one more day. I'm begging you. I want to see you again." Alanna dully wondered if this was acceptable behavior for a prince. He was practically on his knees, whining and begging for something he couldn't have. It left a bad taste in her mouth.

"Perhaps, highness. I shall try." She saw George smirk at the nauseatingly hopeful face Jon acquired after those words. Alanna reminded him again.

"I will try." Then, satisfied, Jonathon of Conte strode back into the palace after kissing his lovely Faye's cheek, utterly pleased with himself. Alanna and George rode back to Dancing Doves with an awkward silence between them. The ride was stifling and Alanna could feel the heat of George's glare. She shook her head.

_What have I gotten myself into? _She wondered, sighing loudly. George had every right to be angry and it was probably only going to get worse.


	3. Chapter 3

Alanna awoke early; still troubled by the way George had looked at her. He wasn't stupid, he knew he was being used, and yet it was understood that he wouldn't step away easily from his place in her plotting. She sighed, banishing the thought from her mind and dressed carefully. She wanted Faye to make all the right impressions on Jon. She grinned as she found what she wanted: a dark, velvet maroon dress with gold trim around the neck and sleeves and a gold pattern laced up the bodice. She hurriedly put it on and then added to the ensemble with a string of pearls with an amethyst gem in the middle. She grinned broadly as she put on the finishing touch: her black wig.

Eleni was not yet awake as Alanna thundered down the stairs (a habit she had yet to reverse). She only grabbed an apple as her breakfast. Normally she was a much heavier eater. But the Lioness figured she wouldn't be doing any fencing or wrestling in the dirt today. She moved towards the door and tossed it open to greet the day. Alanna walked maybe two feet out into the street before a carriage stopped easily to avoid hitting her. The driver, an old friend, tipped his hat.

"Why, Timon! What are you doing out of the palace this early?" Alanna knew she had spoken too quickly as soon as the words had escaped her mouth. She gasped and put a hand on her lips, as if to force back her statement, but it was too late. Timon chuckled at her disguise and helped her climb aboard. Her cheeks flamed scarlet. Timon had too much common sense. She was abashed that she'd slipped up so easily.

"So you're the lass the prince's been ranting about. He has yet to go to bed he's so love-struck, I swear." Alanna smiled inwardly. That was the plan.

"Please, Timon, I know you wouldn't but-." She began gingerly, tactfully. The man's strong voice silenced her.

"But of course. My loyalties lie strong." Alanna smiled gratefully and they were silent the rest of the ride back to the palace.

"So why are you out, anyway?" Alanna asked as they passed the gates that guarded the palace. He stopped the horses near the entrance to the courtyard.

"Prince Jon told Raoul to get you gifts and he laid the honor on me. I was sent out t'buy flowers and jewelry for ye. Prince thinks he's gonna woo ye well, darlin'. I'm not sure what his plans are, though. He's already set to marry that impish Island girl. Set him back in his place, lass." The awkward silence returned for a short while until Timon broke it once more.

"He said somethin' 'bout his lady's ravishing steel gray eyes. What's he mean?" Alanna gasped and quickly magicked her eyes, turning them back to the gray they had been yesterday. Timon then understood and chuckled lightly again as she thanked him profusely and flushed. If she couldn't keep her secret, no one could.

"You always were a sly one. Good luck, m'lady." He kissed her cheek and then helped her from the bench. Then he departed, clutching the gifts he had been sent to retrieve. Alanna sighed and absently decided to sit on the fence and watch the squires and pages wrestle and fence until Jon met her.

MEANWHILE. . .

Josiane wailed horridly in her room, her only friend trying to sooth her wracking body and quiet the bothersome noise.

"Shh," Delia cooed, "He's not worth it." Josiane hit her with a pillow.

"Of course he is, Delia! I was supposed to be queen, and now . . . that tramp's going to take my spot. She'll pay for this. . . ." Delia rubbed her back, not really listening to her babble. She'd seen the girl and had to admit, she was rather pretty. That and the fact that Josiane was precariously boarding insanity made anyone seem like a better candidate.

"Of course, Josie, of course." Still sobbing, Josiane began to make plans to rid her Jon of his lovely Faye and regain her throne.

Jon was amused to see his lady sitting on a fence engulfed in the practicing of the boys. She was extremely entertained, watching them wrestle and fence. He could tell by her face. He smiled slyly and walked into the ring and spoke to the older Duke Gareth, making animated small talk in hope she'd see him. She did and she smiled, hopping off the fence and gracefully gliding towards them.

_Shit, _Alanna thought_, I was too obvious. I should've sat at the bench in the commons, it'd be more lady-like. Well, it's done now. This will never work. He'll find out._ She walked forward, wondering how long this charade could go on, especially with all of the blunders she already made in just one morning.

"My Lady Faye, you arrive so early? Are you eager to see me?" Jon asked as soon as she was close enough to hear and they were simultaneously out of earshot of the boys.

"You think so, my leige? You are lucky. My horse has slipped a shoe and I knew not of a local blacksmith. It will take poor William all day to find one open. But I leave tomorrow. You're only lucky, that's all." She walked ahead a bit, letting him mull over her response. But he soon smiled and ran to catch her.

"You're very sure you won't be here tomorrow, then? Because I was going to invite you to the ball we hold in honor of the King's Champ- oh, never mind. You wouldn't know about that anyway." Alanna smiled. He really did act like she was mentally feeble.

"I met the Lioness with the Bazhir. She warned me of you, she knew I was coming here. She described to me the wicked things you had done on her behalf. I admit; her words were wise." Jon's eyes looked over her face cautiously. He'd just managed to dig himself into a hole.

"You think so?" He asked slowly, the topic of Alanna instantly sobering him.

"Yes, but I'm always on my guard. This is nothing new." Alanna replied in a careless manner. Jon calmed down a bit. Their stroll became more pleasant as they stuck to mundane topics, and as they passed the servants' quarters, Timon winked at her. She laughed a bit and Jon quickly darted his eyes to see what had amused her, but she revealed nothing. She began to wonder where the flowers and jewels were.

"Well, my Lady Faye, shall we retire to the den? Do you play chess? I believe Myles has a board inside. Perhaps we could go a round." She took his arm as he steered her toward the room she was already familiar with.

"I do hate to boast, Highness, but I have only lost to one person in chess in my life." Alanna said as she sat down and he began to place the pieces.

"Really? Who?" Jon asked, glancing up at her before moving his king to the correct place to begin.

"My father." Faye replied with a soft voice and falsely shy smile. She wondered if Myles would recognize her if he walked in. She almost hoped he would. And so they played, chattering pleasantly enough inside Myles' quarters. That is, until Alanna beat him in six moves.

"Damn! How'd you do that?" He asked curiously, replaying the game in his mind to understand his error. She grinned, her straight white teeth making a perfect smile.

"My secret." She replied with a smirk and a wink. Alanna darted out of the room quickly and stuck her head just barely in the doorway.

"Aren't you coming?" She asked, with a familiar mischievous grin. If she was going to get anywhere, it wasn't going to be by bruising his ego. Jon chuckled at her antics and followed after her, eager to see what she would lead him to. Though, he doubted he could resist her even if she led him to the deepest depths of hell. He just hoped that she would take him somewhere pleasant enough. He didn't need another woman to lead him back to depression and despair. He had Alanna for that.


	4. Chapter 4

Before I start, this chapter is dedicated to: Arianla. Happy bliss!

Alanna ran away from the castle on the balls of her feet like a lady would, but she was still faster than Jon, who was jogging behind her. She was far ahead of him and she inwardly groaned, knowing what she would have to do. She stumbled purposefully and let him inch ahead of her. He stopped and turned back, his hand reaching out for hers. She laughed at his labored breathing. The palace and his sedimentary office were .

"Is my lord out of shape?" She asked mockingly. He looked up at her and then straightened, trying to regain composure.

"Is my lady in shape?" He asked in a surprised and somewhat alarmed voice. Alanna bit her cheek and grew solemn. Ladies never ran, never fought. She was in big trouble if he. . . . She shrugged it off as his attention to the topic wavered.

"Come, this is where I will take you." She declared, spinning with her arms raised. "To the city. How many times have you been here in the streets, among the people, without a guard to limit your exposure?" Jonathon shrugged, not really sure. "Follow me, and I'll show you the real Tortall." She declared. Faye grabbed his hand and led him out and into the dirt streets, into the crowded market where hundreds of his constituents went about their business.

"Someday you're going to be king. I know the king is considered his country, but you're wrong. You need to see the people, meet the body of your lands. You need to understand their needs and struggles." A bundle of children ran past them. "Maria!" A young, dirty girl came bounding towards Alanna. Maria was a beggar that she'd met when she went shopping on her first day back. Alanna had seen the girl every day since. She picked her up in a small swoop and held her tight. She was so frail, so poorly tended to. But it wasn't anyone's fault. There simply wasn't money to care for her.

"Maria, darling, say hello to King Jonathon." The girl stared at him for a moment, then turned her head and hid in the sleeve of Alanna's dress. Alanna smiled sheepishly at her shy behavior. Jon wondered how she could pick up such a girl and neither worry about the dirt staining her dress nor struggle to lift her. But then again, Jon thought, he could see the girl's ribs perfectly through her dress. Faye carried her to a fruit vendor, pulling out her coin purse.

"Excuse me, Madame, but may I buy a melon, a few apples and bananas and some bread?" Alanna had just noticed the bread sitting on the edge of the vendor. It would serve for a while as a meal.

"Of course, my lady, just a moment." The lady at the vendor went to work and Alanna set Maria down to pay.

"Now one apple and one banana are for you." She said, crouching so that they were at an equal level. "The others are for your brothers and sisters at home, okay? And the melon and bread are for your dinner tonight your momma doesn't have to fret. You take this straight home, alright? No trips, no bargaining. Straight home to momma. Understand?" The girl nodded and Alanna handed her the package full of their rations. The little girl smiled and ran off as fast as her legs would carry her. Jon was amazed that she never said thank you, especially to a noble of Faye's stature. But Faye read his mind.

"Her smile and gratitude were the only thanks I needed. You could see it in her eyes. She knew this was a big gift." Jon followed after her, dumbstruck. That's when he spotted Eleni Cooper rushing by frantically. Faye beat him to her.

"Eleni, what's wrong?" Faye reached out and grabbed the old woman's arm. She turned to face Alanna with a jolt, recognizing her as something familiar. The bags under her eyes were dark and her curls were strewn and frazzled on her head. Her eyes searched Alanna's frenetically.

"It's George. I haven't been able to find him all day and I haven't seen him since yesterday morning. Well, you saw him yesterday. He escorted you home, right? Do you have any idea where he may have gone?" Alanna shook her head solemnly.

"I'm sorry, but I haven't seen him since he dropped me off last night at your house. Where haven't you looked? Do you think he's in trouble?" Eleni nodded.

"He was supposed to meet me this morning and he never showed up. It's not like him to disregard his commitments to me. Oh, Miss Al-Faye, I'm so worried. Will you help me find him?" Alanna grabbed her hand and grasped it firmly.

"Of course, Eleni, of course." She assured her. Eleni looked at Jon and he stare back at her, but neither one knew each other well enough to recognize the other. Jon followed the women silently. He soon caught up to Faye and hissed in her ear as he looped her arm around his.

"We should try the usual inns, the Dancing Dove, that sort of thing. I doubt he's anywhere regal or even in any homes. It's not his usual scene." Faye nodded, not giving him much attention, her eyes searching the crowd. She knew George better than he ever would. She shrugged out of his grasp. A few people recognized her as she passed and smiled or waved. Jon was amazed she was so well known for only being here a day.

Alanna understood why everyone recognized her. George had sent out the word that she was under an alias and people were not to ruin her work. So they smiled and called her Faye as he asked. She only worried that the effect on George had driven him to do something reckless. She sighed as she saw the sun set over the horizon. It was too dark to find him now. Swearing softly, Alanna regretted entangling George in such a mess. She'd take it all back if she could. The only problem was, she'd have to find him first.

A/N:

Why Hello! Lol. To all of my avid (a.k.a. AMAZING!) Readers and reviewers. I love you! No, but seriously. The fact that this story has so many reviews just blows my mind. And I'd also like to apologize for not reviewing quick enough (bet you haven't heard this a million times, huh?) I am grounded from the computer and have been sneaking on at one in the morning. So please try and understand! Anyway, this chapter is dedicated to Arianla because her review just made my day (make my day and I'll write YOU a chapter, okay?) And my new peer editor and comrade is lime 63. YAY! Although I try extremely hard to use correct grammar, phonetics and proper English, I don't always make the mark. So she is here to save me from the horrible humiliation! YIPPEE! c

Humbly the slave of the Written Word,

-Rae-


	5. Chapter 5

George Cooper groaned inaudibly. He hated having to stand still like this, especially for hours on end. Yet here he was, cramped inside a tiny closet, as he had been for nearly five hours. But he knew he had to do this, it was for Alanna; not Faye, but the King's Champion, the red-haired, violet-eyed Alanna. Whatever Jon was up to, it wasn't going to benefit her. He perked up to attention as the generals reentered the room. One rolled a map out on the table.

"If we take the passage, we'll get there quicker than if we were to take the road. And they won't be expecting us by mountain." A rough, burly man said. Another, probably the eldest, rolled his eyes at the situation. This was Jonathon's plan, naïve and ineffective.

"Yes, but the Bazhir are quick and agile fighters. No matter how surprised they are, they're sure to have a counter-attack. Can't we just go in calmly and ask for the Lioness? Make a trade?" Now a younger man was speaking. The elder ones scoffed at him.

"You think that the Bazhir are going to give up their precious Healer? She's a tribe member, and they won't hand her over easily. She is one of their warriors. I say we attack at night, take her silently by force. They'll be thirty of us. All we have to do is take a mage so they can't tell we're coming by the Gift."

George sat in shock. Then, he realized. Jon didn't care how he got Alanna back; he just wanted her back so he could torment her. It didn't matter if she didn't want to come back, or that she was deliberately "avoiding" him. The thought made him sick. He was sending out thirty good men to go capture a woman he wanted for a trivial purpose. And besides that, if Alanna ever found out, she would hate him forever. George had learned early on that you do not force the Lioness to do anything she didn't wish to. Jon was going to attempt to play with her head and make her miserable to cheer his own broken heart. George didn't know what to do.

"Then it's decided. We leave tomorrow, arrive in three days and attack at night using our mage. We'll have her back before the week's out." The General smiled. Their new Black mage would come in handy in hiding their auras and overpowering Alanna. Him, and the King's own would indefinitely be able to overpower a mere Bazhir village. Besides, there was no room for error. This was to be a swift and silent operation with no evidence left behind.

"That is all, boys. Tell the company of our intentions. They have to be ready to move out at notice. Dismissed." The eldest man grumbled about in the room until he finally rolled up the map and stormed out. George sighed in relief. He slowly opened the door and tumbled out, brushing the dirt and dust off of his breeches. Alanna wouldn't like this. Not at all. He climbed back out the window and was gone in a second. No one saw him leave.

As George was walking the streets, he suddenly remembered what he was supposed to be doing that day. He was supposed to have met his mother this morning. _Oh, she must be having hives by now, _he thought_, she's probably called the police_. He laughed inwardly at his mother's brash antics. Picking up his pace, he made his way through the crowd and to his mother's house. He wondered what she was doing. In his head an image arose of her pacing the floors, clutching a handkerchief as she waited for a stroke to come. Climbing the stairs, he opened the front door.

"Oh, Faye, I don't know where he could be! We've had all of his men searching for hours! What if he's dead, or what if they captured him? Oh, Jon, you won't let them kill him will you?" Eleni was in hysterics. As much as she didn't want to admit it, Alanna was starting become concerned herself.

"Of course not, Eleni. George is a friend of mine and I assure you he hasn't been captured. My father's men aren't as agile as he is. Even if he was caught, he'd just escape. I've no doubt he's already eluded our men this morning."

"Eleni, I'm sure he's fine. You know George; he's probably just out running errands. He probably just forgot he was supposed to meet you." Faye tried to soothe the woman's frazzled nerves. It was then that she saw the shadow in the doorway.

"George!" Alanna cried, jumping from her seat at the table. Eleni whipped about to stare at her son, rubbing the back of his neck with a frown. He was getting too old for this. He could take care of himself.

"Oh, George!" Eleni cried, almost instantly on top of him, squeezing him against her large bosom.

"Hi, mum." It was about five minutes before she released him and George looked over at Jon and "Faye."

"I've been with your lovely infantry general for the last few hours. Would you care to explain yourself, Jon?" George asked with a sneer. The man paled as Alanna turned to stare at Jon as the prince's mind whirled. He had given the orders two days ago. They were supposed to be kept confidential. Every bit of evidence was to be destroyed. He didn't think George Cooper would come meddling. In fact, it had never crossed his mind.

"What is he talking about, Jon?" She asked, confused. She looked back at George, his arms folded stubbornly across his chest. She knew now that George wouldn't let Jon leave before he gave an honest answer. Jon sighed and sank into one the kitchen table chairs.

"I don't know what you're talking about, George." He tried vainly, his face in his hands. Alanna knew he was lying. She glanced around and Eleni's face gave the same expression as hers. Jon sighed. All he'd been working for-gone. A line had been crossed here, and trust had been broken with Faye, who respected Alanna. Jon would need a miracle to get himself out of this.

"Bull shit, Jon. I saw your document declaring their orders: to go and overpower the Bazhir and bring back the Lioness, with or without force. I'm sure that if I looked farther there would have been a pardon of murder in this mission. They are to bring back the Lioness whether they have to kill the entire village or not. Are you going to claim I'm lying, Jon? It'll do you no good. I know what I saw, what they said. I'd call them off if I were you. They leave for the Mountain Pass tomorrow." Jon looked at Faye, worried about her reaction. He wished she wasn't here. He wished this had never happened. Regretting everything, he hid his face in his hands. He'd been caught red-handed.

"You should call them off, Highness. Alanna no longer resides with the Bazhir. Their quest would be in vain. If they go and find that she's not there and harm _anyone_, you will lose your power as the Voice. They won't listen anymore, not to a murderer." Faye said slowly, her words slow and deliberate. George saw the hurt in her eyes. Her back was turned to Jon, though he wasn't looking at her. This is why he had never wanted her to be so close to the crown. Everyone close was always betrayed; no one could escape without getting hurt.

* * *

Josiane sat with Delia smiling mischievously to herself. It would work. It would definitely work. The Copper Isles troops would be here in only a matter of weeks. Josiane knew she would be dumped by then. She had already gotten over the fact that Jon no longer cared about her. She was now in a stage of revenge and she thought the demolishing of the Tortall empire might just do it. The greatest thing was that Alanna the Lioness wouldn't be there to fight. The entire castle would be burned to the ground while she was away pouting with the Bazhir. Josiane chuckled. And she would watch it all as a guest to the King. It just proved that you should never turn your back. Someone is always waiting to pounce.

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A/N: SOOO? How was it? I had loads of joy writing this chapter. It was stupendously fun. And I'm sorry for the time in between. I really finished this three weeks ago but the night before I went to camp my internet server wasn't working and I knew that my beta (however fantabulous she may be) couldn't finish and send it back to me in a night and have me still post it, so I didn't bother. So here it is in full glory, your chapter. TADA! Now review my pretties and tell me to keep writing! (Or I may lose my muse) HA! I rhymed! I'm a poet and I...yeah. Whatever.


	6. Chapter 6

**This chapter is dedicated to Duani of the Copper Isles because she reviews and she put me on a C2 labeled "best tortallan stories". So thank you, Duani!**

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Jon walked hastily down the street, attempting to catch up to Faye. When he did, he noticed her arms folded around her and her face scrunched in confusion.

What's wrong?" He asked, concerned. Was she this upset over what George had told her? She barely even knew Alanna. He understood that it was a bit of a betrayal to his character, but still . . .

"Nothing! I'm fine." She answered with a snap, picking up her pace. He groaned and followed her. Woman language, he told himself, rolling his eyes. The translation: Sometime was _definitely_ wrong and she _wasn't_ okay about it. They walked in silence the rest of the way to where the road split between the castle and Eleni Cooper's home. Faye turned to him when they reached the gate.

"How could you?" She asked, "How could you do that to the Lioness? The woman you loved? Were you going to force her to become your bride, by dragging her back here? It's disgusting, Jon." He held her chin in his hand, forcing her eyes to look into his as she struggled to get away.

"It's not that simple, love. The Champion is a very complex woman and when she means something, I don't doubt what she says. She said she was never coming back. But I need her back. For Corus and for Tortall." Faye laughed icily as she tore from his grasp.

"You were going to ruin her happiness for your pathetic needs? Ruin her life to save your honor? It's a sad thing, Jon, if that is what you must do to soothe your own selfish ploys." With that, Faye turned away from him and stormed back into the crowd of people, back towatds Eleni's house where she could cry alone with dignity.

Jon sighed. It seemed the Lioness had more influence on Corus when she wasn't even there. But something of Faye's strong spirit reminded him of Alanna. The two were so alike in so many ways. . . .

Jon sighed. It had been two days and he hadn't seen a glimpse of his Faye, George, or even Sir William. He had indeed called off the hunt for Alanna that night when he'd returned. He'd done it, though, only for Faye. His heart tore at him every time he thought of her horrified face when George had announced the discovered plan. He sighed again and wandered to the training grounds. As he arrived, a familiar sight caught his eye. On the fencepost sat a woman with raven hair and purple eyes. He smiled with unbounded relief. She had returned.

He approached her from behind, admiring silently how her navy dress accented her figure. He saw her shudder from the cold, autumn wind. He smiled and swiftly removed his cloak and wrapped it over her shoulders. She turned with a start and after realizing who it was, smiled weakly.

"Hi." She whispered. He grinned back.

"Hi." He replied, swinging himself over the fence to sit with her.

"Listen, I'm really sorry about the whole Alanna thing. I don't know what I was thinking. She deserves her freedom and to do what she wants. It was . . . very wrong of me to try and force her back her to Corus." He looked up at her. "Forgive me? Please?" He asked hopefully, his face the likeness of a pleading puppy. Faye smiled. Damn. She never could stay mad at him when he made that face. She cursed her weakness.

"Do you mean what you said, or are you just trying to win me back?" She asked with a hint of amusement. Jon sighed and looked out at the sparring pages.

"A while back, I probably would've told you that just to make you happy. But, you've changed me, Faye. I . . . I believe that now. I want Alanna to be happy. I was ludicrous for even thinking of making her come back to Corus to suffer for turning down my proposal. I can't keep the Lioness in one place for long. Itwould've killed her to have to stay here forever and deal with paperwork and street fights." Faye smiled and nodded. Yes, she would've died. If he'd ever been able to catch her, that is. She grinned devilishly.

"Yes," She agreed, "It would've. You're doing the right thing, Highness and I am proud of you." Jon glanced over and smiled.

"It's Jon." He corrected. "Highness seems a bit formal, doesn't it?" Alanna studied his face. Was this really happening?

"As you wish . . . Jon." The prince jumped off the fence and held out his hand.

"Come. I'll have dinner prepared for us immediately." The woman with raven curls accepted his hand and together they walked to the kitchen, seemingly happy once again.

"I have a better idea." Faye whispered, pulling him down so that she could reach his ear.

"Oh?" Jon said, raising an eyebrow. He was interested in what could be better than the food of royalty. The best cooks were employed by the palace.

"Let's make our own supper." She suggested eagerly. Jon didn't hold back his laughter at such an absurd thought. A stern look put him back in his place.

"Oh, dear. You're serious. Well, I suppose we could. If you insist . . ." Faye smiled and dragged him unwillingly in the direction of the kitchen. She would get the aristocratic nobility out of his personality was it the last thing she do.

Two hours later, they were both covered in flour and the kitchen was a disaster. Both were leaning against the counter. Jon laughed, staring at the reminiants of the meal they had attempted to cook.

"I trusted that when you suggested we cook our food that you actually knew how to cook." Faye laughed, staring at Jon's sarcastic face.

"I do know how to cook! You just didn't specify if I knew how to cook _well_ before you gave me a kitchen_._" She retorted with a triumphant and mocking grin.

"So now that I'm starving my ass off, can we please let the cooks do their jobs and make something _edible_ for us?" Jon asked with an exasperated tone. Alanna smiled and stood defiantly.

"No way. Now we go to the Dancing Doves and get dinner." Jon groaned. "C'mon, it'll be fun. Promise." She swore, pulling him to his feet.

"But I'm starving!" He protested. His plea fell on deaf ears. With one last groan, Jon pulled himself to his feet and Alanna led the way out. As they passed the stables, Jon looked at her with fleeting hope.

"Can we at least take a horse?" He begged. Faye thought about it for awhile, and knew Jon was going to object if she said no by the face she was currently recieving.

"All right. But we'll take two. I want my own." Jon raised yet another skeptical eyebrow. Faye just gave him a stern look and scolded him for doubting her.

"I was taught to ride a horse by myself, not in the arms of a man." She grabbed his royal steed and a random one for her and led them back to where he waited.

"How did you know which stallion was mine?" Jon asked suspiciously. Faye panicked, but was able to catch herself before any damage was done.

"Look around, highness. This horse is the most pampered. It also bears the Royal colors on its tack and blanket." Alanna sighed in relief silently. She was going to have to be more careful. Mounting her horse, Alanna steered it to walk next to Jon's.

So they rode together, talking of politics and nobles and the rising rate of crime and Jon knew then that she was the one he would marry. She put him in his place when he was wrong and he had fallen in love with every fiber of her being without even trying. She was perfect. She was an individual. He would propose to her, but for the moment, he would bide his time.

* * *

Josiane watched them from across the street. She scoffed in disgust as a poor commoner ran into her. She gave a vindictive glare and then gave her attention back to the couple.

"Four more days, only four more days. . . ." She told herself and with a swirl of her cloak, she was gone. They would get what they deserved. For Josiane, that meant death. Nothing less would do.

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Sooo ...did you like it? I tried real hard! lol. Well, review my pretties and help me reach my dream of having the most reviewed story in all of the Tamora Pierce section. It is unlikely, but hey, it's a dream isn't it? Until we meet again, mi amores,

The groveling child of the alphabet,

-Rae-


	7. Chapter 7

So I feel really bad. None of my regular reviewers. . . .well, reviewed. And I guess this is their way of punishing me for taking forever to post, and I'm really sorry. Oh, and to the person who thought they were very smart by telling me I'd made a mistake in giving her purple eyes last chapter, I did it for a reason. Here's the next chapter.

The pained teller of the word,

-Rae-

Alanna woke up in a delirious state of happiness. Last night, Jon had been the gentleman she had always wanted him to be. He respected her and her body and he didn't cross any lines. And without even asking, he walked her home and waited until she was inside. He hadn't tried to force her to submit to being in his bed. Alanna was grateful. It was as if, within a night, he had grown up. He was no longer squire Jon that had his little quirks and dislikes. He was a man that knew how to act and behave. And Alanna had fallen in love with this.

This is why dear George's visit didn't help. He had entered sweeping her off her feet with a smile and told her how beautiful she looked. And then something else pulled at her heart strings. Was she in love with him as well? And as soon as he left, she buried her face in her hands and fought the feelings as her mind told her to.

She shouldn't love two men. She had to make a choice. And though she was leaning closer to Jon, she knew that George accepted her for who she was and he loved the scrappy, dirt-clad Alanna. He loved the true her and Jon, well, he loved a woman named Faye.

She sighed and sat in thought for a while, then stood to leave. As an afterthought, she turned back to the mirror and magicked her eyes the normal grey. By the time she departed, it was noon.

The streets were bustling with people, nobles and peasants alike. She smiled inwardly at the people in the markets, shouting for people to come and buy whatever they sold. As they walked, they kicked up the dirt of the street and there was a light haze fogging the city. Four peasant children scrambled past Alanna, laughing and grinning. Alanna smiled and wondered what her life would be like had she had a care-free childhood. She'd loved the palace, sure, but she wondered what she would be now if her mother had lived and her father not cast them off.

Before she knew it, she found herself in the halls of the palace. She walked lazily, remembering the years she had spent wandering them. Caught up in her memories, she knocked into something large. She gasped and backed up.

"Oh, forgive me, miss. I should watch where I'm going. My deepest apologies." Alanna felt tears come forth.

"Father." She breathed and threw her arms around him, inhaling his comforting scent. Myles had stiffened for a moment, wondering who this girl was and why she was hugging him. Then he realization came.

"Alanna? Dear goddess, child, what are you doing here? And in a wig no less?" Alanna let her eyes slip back to their normal color and she smiled sheepishly.

"It's a long story, Myles." She looked around nervously. If anyone had heard, she was done for. "Perhaps we can continue inside your quarters?" Myles nodded and ushered her to his chambers. Alanna locked and magically sealed the door and put a silencing charm on it.

Alanna wondered why she had forgotten about Myles. In all the commotion, she had forgotten to see him, to tell him of her troubles. He always knew what to do. She felt guilty for forgetting him, her father. He should be the most important man in her life. He inquired quickly about her actions and she told him her story and dilemma.

"So the king thinks you're Faye of Trighton court and he's fallen in love with you. And George is. . . ." Alanna butt in.

"George has always been like this. Since my squire days he's tried to convince me to be his bride. I only wanted to come here to convince Jon I could be feminine, but now I don't know how he'll react when he finds out it's me. What am I going to do? I love Jonathon, but he only loves Faye. I think finding out Faye is me would sober up his heart. I just don't want to turn down George to find out Jon doesn't love the real me." She glanced up in the dim light at Myles, who was thinking at his desk, his forehead wrinkled in concentration.

"You make it seem as if George is a backup choice. Is that really what you think of him? Because if you do not love him like you do his Highness, then you can't choose him. He loves you and no one else. But I don't want you to marry him and then be unhappy with your choice." The elder man looked up at her, trying to read her face.

"No! That's not how it is at all. It's just that, well, I fell I have a stronger connection with Jon. I would be happy if I was with George, it's just that. . . . I don't know." She sighed. "I just don't know." She whispered. She put her face in her hands. With a scrape of the chair, she knew Myles was walking to her. He pulled her into an embrace.

"It's okay. You may not know now, but something will lead you to a decision. You'll know soon enough." Alanna felt his scruffy beard atop her head. She hoped he was right. They stood and she said their good byes. Alanna left still not knowing what she was going to do. She shuffled out to the stables. There sat Timon and Stefan (AN: that doesn't seem like his name and I don't have any Alanna books with me, they're all at the library. Notify me if I'm wrong?)

"If you're looking to avoid his highness, I'd skip town about now. He's got the rest of the week planned for you guys." Timon warned, grinning while rubbing saddle soap into a rider's saddle. She smiled and waved goodbye, wandering slowly back towards the garden. There she sat on the ledge of the waterfall. A voice called to her.

"I thought you weren't going to come. I waited all day." Jon sat beside her, kissing her hand. She smiled weakly.

"Sorry, I had some troubles I was trying to sort." She said. Well, it was truthful, wasn't it? It just wasn't the whole truth. Simply an innocent white lie is all, she told herself.

"Did you resolve them?" Jon asked, leaning over to try and catch a glimpse of her face. She looked up at him as he cupped her chin gently. The dim light barely lit their eyes.

"No, I didn't. But I hope to." Jon was studying her eyes carefully. They were gray, but weren't they purple yesterday? Was he going insane? And before that, he had taken her eyes to be gray, but he had thought perhaps he had just not looked carefully enough.

"Do your eyes change, Faye? I could've sworn they were a ravishing purple yesterday and today they're a startling gray." Alanna felt her cheeks go red. Shit, this was where she would drown in lies.

"Um, yes highness, they're grey. But one emotion changes them to purple." Jon arched an eyebrow.

"And which might that be?" He asked curiously, suddenly realizing how many secrets this woman had. He knew nearly nothing about her. She grinned and kissed his cheek.

"Love." She breathed, then stood and walked away. Jon just sat watching her. His breath was taken away. How could five seconds and one word do this to him? His entire body was tingling and his heart was giddy. He sighed happily, thinking of only one person the rest of the night. Oh, the effects of a woman...


	8. Chapter 8

Josiane of the Copper Isles sat in her room at the palace, feeling horribly discarded and betrayed. She'd struggled these past few days, wondering what she should do. Her mind told her to leave, to return to her own land where she would be wanted and treated as she deserved. But her heart told her that she should stay and receive her revenge. In the end, with help from Delia, her heart overcame. Besides, her army would be here in two days. How bad could two more nights hurt?

Jonathon sat in his office, twirling a priceless ring in his hands. It had been his mother's ring, his grandmother's ring, and so on for near five hundred years. And if he got his way, it would soon be Faye's. Lately every fiber of her being consumed him. He thought of her hair, her slight northern accent, her lips and eyes, her freckles and her smile. She filled his mind, not allowing any other thoughts to be pondered. He wondered how he'd ever get work done with a woman consuming his brain.

Meanwhile, Alanna set off from Eleni Cooper's house and into the streets of the crowded market. She wore a veil in hopes of being unrecognized. She had thought she'd be taken as an eastern woman, in the city for a visit.

She wandered aimlessly for about fifteen minutes until a familiar laugh caught her attention. She glanced over to see George, flirting with a petite brunette against Parterre Inn's walls. She dodged quickly away, praying she wouldn't be seen. If George caught one glimpse of her, he'd be on her instantaneously. She was almost around the corner, when-

"Faye!" He called, waving his arms profusely. Alanna gave a weak smile and waved back. She wove between the crowd and finally made it to them. George then kissed her on the cheek.

"Faye, darling, this is Rosaline Myers. She's just come to town and was hoping for a job. Perhaps you could assist?" He asked hopefully. Alanna wanted to laugh. All the times she had used George and now he was flipping the tables. She grinned at the irony.

"George, dear, you and I both know that I am only a visitor to the palace. I certainly can't behave like the guest I am if I would ask for a job for this woman." She glanced over at this girl, Rosaline. She wasn't very old, perhaps two years younger than Alanna. She was also, in fact, almost sickeningly pretty. She was much too attractive to be a peasant's daughter. Even a peasant's daughter, if attractive, is given away to a more wealthy commoner, sometimes a noble. Women that looked like this didn't stay unmarried. Alanna studied her for a few minutes. She was brought back to reality by George's cough to get her attention.

"Are you from the East?" Rosaline asked timidly. Alanna laughed when she realized her veil was still on. She removed it swiftly.

"No, I'm not. I'm originally from Tre-, from Trighton Court. It's in the west." Rosaline just stared at her curiously, glancing from her to her veil. This girl was too nosy for Alanna to even consider her a commoner. George coughed and interrupted the glares and the silence.

"Well, anyway, I have something I need to discuss with you. Could you meet me at the Dancing Dove at, oh, say eight thirty? Tonight?" Alanna smiled.

"I'll be there. Good day, George. Rosaline." She nodded her head stiffly at this stranger. Who was she and what did she want? No one knew her alias. She was safe, wasn't she? She turned and walked away, absently walking down the streets as she pondered the girl's motives for being in Corus.

Rosaline watched her go, recognizing the love struck look in George's eyes as she walked away. Why in the world would any man love a woman like that.?

"So what do you think of her?" George asked, finally turning back and recognizing her. Rosaline lifted her chin in a condescending way.

"No woman should be that outspoken and conniving. Something about her is bad, George. I don't trust her." She glanced over just in time to see his eyes spark with enraged fire.

"What do you have against her? Faye is a good person. I'd trust her with my life. I've known her for years and she's always been loyal. And I, for one, am a man that loves her." George stopped immediately. He meant it, sure enough, but hearing it aloud was weird. He stared at the ground for awhile, thinking about their relationship and what would become of it. Tonight would be his chance to prove his love for her. Perhaps his only chance. It would have to be romantic though...he'd definitely need help. That, and a bunch of roses. He looked at the sundial. It was nearly four. He had less than five hours. He wondered if it was enough...


	9. Chapter 9

George Cooper sat anxiously in his normal place in the tavern, awaiting the newly familiar sight of black hair. But in the meanwhile, he had finished his third whiskey. He was dismayed to find it was not only edging his fears; it was making him think…too much. Horrible doubts, ones he'd never had before, ran through his mind. What if she didn't choose him? What if she showed up tonight and told him this was all a mistake? That he'd been lying to himself for a decade. Shaking his head, trying to flush out his contemplations, he finally saw what he wanted to: the woman with grey eyes and raven hair entered The Dancing Dove. He jumped from his seat.

He was happy, as he wound through the people that she had indeed dressed up for him. He relieved enough that she wasn't dressed as a man, as she usually was. Not that he minded, in the least. But still, it was nice to see the woman of all of your affections in a dress specifically chosen for you. He inspected her. She was in a crimson tunic that bunched at the waist and fell to the floor. Along with that, she had her matching jewel given to her by the goddess. And suddenly, he was entranced by her hair. It was in curls, for the first time he bet, in her life. His heart swelled with the thought that she fancied herself up for him: George Cooper, king of thieves. And as he almost reached her, no longer aware of any other noise in the bar, he studied her face. Was that makeup? He had to stop mid-thought as he reached her.

"My lady." He said, bowing with a mischievous grin. She smiled back with a chuckle.

"My liege." She replied, giving a mock curtsey. She laughed and he took her arm, steering her through the men and women of the crowd. They headed upstairs, George's heart pounding. He could only hear his own breath and the pulse of his heart in his ears. Why was he nervous? Surely he was not afraid of losing her to Jonathon. And as they reached the last step he realized that was exactly what it was. He was terrified.

Holding his breath, he opened the door, praying to every god he'd ever heard of that she'd like it. When he heard her gasp, he exhaled in relief.

Alanna slowly walked inside the room, amazed at the scene around her. Candles, roses, and a silk table cloth holding some of the finest china she had ever seen. And she loved it. Then something caught in her throat. She loved it? Since when did she, Alanna of Trebond, love roses? She wasn't going to get married, remember? She was equal to any man, and no damned man loved roses! Or silk tablecloths or a romantic dinner by candlelight. Realization set in. She was going soft. And the truth fell from her eyes as she began to sob.

"Alanna, what's wrong? Was it something I did?" Sniffling, Alanna shook her head.

"No, of course not, George. This is beautiful, really. It's just… I shouldn't enjoy these things, but I can't help it. George, this is wonderful. But I'm a knight, I'm the _Champion_. And if I'm going to keep that title, I can't do this. I have to stop wearing dresses and jewelry and . . . and courting! These things are making me weak. Men are strong, rugged. That's how I need to be. Not swept off my feet by a flower." George smiled, knowingly, and placed a lock of hair behind her ear.

"Love, you're a woman. That's why you came back, remember, to show Jon how much of a woman you can be? And we both know you're as damned headstrong and tough as ever. But there are two sides to you. I think you've just been suppressing the other half of you your entire life. You'll always be as tough as the men, but being feminine will only be to your advantage. Men aren't able to do that. You'll have another side to you no _man_ can obtain. I promise, Alanna, you're allowed to wear a dress every so often. You've broken no chivalry law." She smiled weakly and George wiped away your tears.

"Now come, before I get beaten by the cooks for letting the food get cold." He led her to the table and Alanna knew how heavy her burden had just become. Her decision was going to be harder than she'd ever imagined. She didn't sleep well that night, and dreaded the morning drawing ever nearer. But Josiane, only a few rooms down, slept peacefully knowing that in less than two days time, the crown she had earned and lost would be returned to her. A dark cloud covered Tortall that night, as the gods all knew what was about to take place.

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**AHHH! Hello my lovelies. lol. I'm sorry. It's all I can say. Yell, scream, hiss, curse, do what you must. Go ahead and rant and complain (my beta already started) lol. But I'm sorry and I'm finally back on track. It's all I can do to make it up to you.**

**The Delayed Writer,**

**-Rae-**


	10. Chapter 10

This chapter is dedicated to my beta, Lime 63. She was the only one to pull me from my stupor, even though I make her feel as if she is an old lady who hath swallowed a fly! lol. Anyway, my apologies; enjoy...

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Jon whistled as he walked down an empty hallway. The air smelled like optimistically like lilacs and the sun was bright in a cloudless sky. He was still in a delirium and he never planned to leave the state of mind. The feeling had, however, been dampened by the fact that _**she**_ had not been to court the day before. Didn't she realize that she had left his royal majesty waiting? Sighing, he realized her bold personality probably enjoyed making him suffer. He grinned, but it soon faltered as another woman resurfaced in his thoughts.

Alanna. As angry as he was at her, he still missed her. She was his best friend, for Mithros' sake, his Champion. Raoul and Gary were nice, of course, but she had at one point quite literally been his rock. The hollow feeling in his stomach belied his quick temper. He missed her terribly. Sighing, he wished he could confide in her once more as he had when they were page and squire. _Child's play that has long passed_, he thought longingly.

A few women walked by as he pondered silently, all of noble birth and certainly beautiful creatures. They grinned and giggled as they passed; attempting to be as elegant and poised as possible but Jon barely seemed to notice. No one could match _his_ Faye, the reason his heart beat. As he slipped into a daydream of the soon to be queen, the same woman joined the living on the other side of town.

* * *

Alanna awoke jerkily with a prophetic revelation. She had fallen asleep with the sound of Myles' advice ringing through her ears. _Something will lead you to a decision. You'll know soon enough._ She _had_ decided, now she just had to make sure that her decision was a good one. She had to be certain, for everyone's sake. She hastily pulled on a robe and climbed down the stairs of Eleni's house, stretching her tensed muscles from the inactivity of night. She was greeted with a large woman pulling her into her bosom. After the sudden impulse of shock subsided, she recognized that is was Eleni and let herself relax for what she could, suffocating in the woman's tight embrace.

"Oh you dear child, I never imagined…The Prince! Oh, Alanna, look at the possibilities!" Eleni let her go and pulled on her left hand, only to look crestfallen. Looking back up, they met eyes, one anxious and the other horribly bewildered.

"Where's yer ring?" Eleni asked expectantly. Alanna raised an eyebrow.

"What ring?"

"_What ring_? The ring the Prince gave you! It's old news on the street now that you're his new betrothed. It's logical and all, him thinkin' you're a Bazhir princess. They say he's going to announce a royal ball in yer honor tomorrow!" Alanna blanched. She didn't know why she was surprised, this was typical Jon. The man always got his way, now was no different. He was planning to marry her without asking the most important part of the matter: her!

"I am not engaged. Tell everyone you know. I am not marrying Jon!" Alanna sighed.

"That's a shame. George came by this morning with flowers and a bracelet of congratulations. Eleni pointed at the table, that indeed held purple tulips and a golden bracelet in its midst. Alanna approached it. The bracelet was a golden chain with one charm, a ruby heart that was placed in the center. Alanna peered at it closer, noticing an engraving.

"Come what may, you will always own my heart. Congratulations, my lioness." Alanna began to tear up. This was not working like it was supposed to! She cursed this damn love triangle and dejectedly, she went upstairs to hurriedly dress. She was suddenly annoyed at the thought of putting on a dress, her skin prickling at the uneasy feeling. She wanted her breeches and a comfortable tunic.

Impatiently, she called a carriage out to take her to the palace. She sat silently in thought; her flustered mind trying to organize the events she knew would have to occur. As the carriage pulled her, the gold bracelet on her wrist sparkled mischievously, as if it knew what was about to unfold. . .


	11. Chapter 11

Alanna felt her fury grow as she passed the palace gates. How dare he assume she would say yes! He was going to get a piece of her mind if not a piece of her fist. She could feel her fingers itch to strangle her dear "prince". With a frustrated groan, she realized that such an act was improper for a noblewoman.

"Well damn nobility, damn proper women and damn Jon!" She muttered to herself. The carriage stopped at the stable and let her off near the gardens. Alanna didn't want a grand entrance. She didn't need one. That was for court ladies. She was a Champion. She hastily thanked the driver and threw him a sack of coins as she headed for court. A sudden voice stopped her dead in her tracks.

_"I knew you'd pick him. He's better for you anyway. He knows how to care for you."_ Turning around, Alanna found not a person, but a cat. With a cry of remorse for not taking care of him over the last few days, Alanna picked up the cat and held him fiercely.

"Faithful! I'm so sorry, it's just, lately I-."

_"Save it. I don't need your excuses; just have something for me that's worthwhile when you get back." _With a flick of his tail, he jumped from Alanna's arms, no worse for wear as it appeared. Looking back, he added, _"Oh, and I'd be sure to keep an eye on that princess from the Isles, she's rather batty. . _." Alanna laughed, but was sure to heed the advice. She wasn't sure if it was just the inbreeding or if something else was taking place in that strange woman's mind. Nonetheless, Alanna was relieved to quickly locate her in the court, gossiping with some other courtly maidens in a swooping manner, her manicured and polished nails telling her story for her. A guard in royal colors passed, pulling her back to the task at hand.

Now to find the man who considered himself betrothed. Alanna hiked up her skirts and scurried to find Jon. But then, suddenly, she was stopped by the queen. Had she ever met the queen? Alanna was searching for a time while the woman approached. Alanna groaned contemptuously at the interruption. First Faithful, now this? Lianne, attempting to be cordial, greeted her with a smile, even if it was forced. Her son was planning on wedding _this_? She attempted to be affable, but Alanna could see her disapproval create an aura around her. It created an air of stiffness and discomfort around her.

"My dear, might we have a . . . oh, say, a chat?" Alanna hesitated, knowing with great dread that she could not deny the Queen. Yet Jon was the only thing on her mind. She could afford no distractions. Given time, she knew her anger would abate. She had to find him and set him straight, before it was too late and she had lost her reasoning. She cursed him again. She gave the same pained smile back to Lianne.

"Of course, your Majesty." She forced through clenched teeth. Patience was not a virtue Alanna possessed. With a sweeping curtsey, Alanna followed the queen, inwardly rolling her eyes. It wasn't long before two guards open the doors to a parlor and ushered the two inside, standing their posts at the door.

"Tea, your Grace?" A servant girl asked, clumsily stumbling from the steps. Lianne flicked her hand. Immediately the girl began to pour. Alanna nodded kindly at her as the cup was shyly served. The queen ignored the servant's presence. Immediately her nature turned business-like and offensive.

"My dear, just where are you from again? I'm afraid Jonathon forgot to mention." Her eyes flashed eagerly, awaiting the chance to catch this clever girl's flawed pseudonym. Alanna caught her air of interrogation.

"I come for the Bazhir. I am a tribe leader's daughter from a small nomadic tribe. I was sent to see Corus and its wonders, among other things." Lianne disregarded her last remark.

"Funny," Lianne swirled her teabag, "Jon seems to be under the notion that you're a princess."

"Well then his _impression_ was incorrect, my Queen. I stated nothing of the sort, nor did I attempt to lead the assumption. I stated I was a representative of the Bazhir tribes, nothing more." Fury swept across Lianne's majestic features. Simultaneously, the Parlor door swung open. Nearly choking on here tea, Alanna came face to face with Jon, who looked just as peeved as she felt.

How convenient for him to intervene, really. Just what she needed, to be stuck in a room of Royal blood. Jon's mother would take his side and with her luck, she'd be in the dungeons tonight if her temper didn't stay checked. She needed to stay focused on her point, her goal: to scold Jon for "assuming" she was head-over-heels for him. Of course she loved him, but would it have killed him to _ask_ her before literally measuring her for the dress? She was drawn from her thoughts when Jon spoke.

"Mother, what could you possibly have to confer with my fiancée?" Jon asked, immediately aggressive. Lianne stood in protest, mock distress on her countenance. This time, Jon had gone too far.

"Fiancée, Jon? I do beg to differ. She's not even of Noble blood! She's Bazhir. It's a disgrace to the kingdom and our family!" Alanna scoffed and joined the argument.

"What's wrong with the Bazhir? Jon's their Voice!" Suddenly, she twirled and bore into Jon, remembering he was there. "And _who_ in Mithros' name said _I_ was your _fiancée_? I don't remember agreeing to that!" Jon studied her, silent and startled. He was lucky, however, because Alanna's attention was called to the petite woman in the door way.

"What does it matter? You won't have to bother with the title." With a sneering grin, Josiane crossed the threshold. "My armies are already claiming it in my name." And as she moved from the doorway, there lay the two guards on the ground; their blood intermingled between their lifeless corpses. _Shit,_ Alanna thought, as she jumped over the corpses and raced for the stables where she had left Moonlight and her armor. She only faintly heard Jon shout after her as she flew down the hall, kicking off her heels and pulling out the pins in her long, black hair. Army or not, she figured she ought to be prepared for the worst. Bad blood always led to wild schemes of the grandest kind.


	12. Chapter 12

Alanna found her things in the hayloft where Timon had hid expertly hid them among the feed and equipment. Without hesitation, she pulled off her fragile dress and tugged on the worn and tattered breeches she had abandoned long ago. But she didn't attempt to duck behind something, alacrity trumping dignity. There wasn't enough time. She sighed at the familiar comfort she felt as the cloth brushed her skin and hastily, she buttoned her shirt.

Next came her socks and boots, followed by her gloves. Alanna could hear the battle from the courtyard vaguely while she flexed her fingers inside the sheepskin leather. Her blood raced inside her ears and could feel the adrenaline seep into her veins, wiring her for the fight ahead with a euphoric high. Strapping on her armor, Alanna slipped back into her natural niche without ever realizing it as she buckled the protective plates on her legs. Her stance lowered, she moved on the balls of her feet and her eyes lost their magical covering, returning forevermore to their original violet. Faye had died on the hayloft and Alanna was back in full fury, itching to join the fight. As she finished harnessing her armor, she whistled to Moonlight. The horse appeared below with a rustle of hooves and holding her breath, Alanna leaned over, preparing to jump. She was surprised to find that Moonlight was already saddled.

Her eyes scanning the stable for the culprit, she saw Timon emerge from a stall, leading Jon's saddled stallion. For a brief moment through the chaos their eyes met. Smiling, Alanna nodded to him, a silent thanks. Giving her a response in the form of a smile and wave, Timon led the horse from the barn, toward the eye of the storm.

"Good luck, my champion!" He called. Alanna's grin widened. Holding her breath as she stared at the distance between her and the floor, she decided it may be better to take the ladder. Warily, she flung herself onto the iron rungs. Finally planting her feet on the ground, she quickly swung into the saddle and urging Moonlight forward, she let out a scream that held all of the anxiety and excitement that had been bottled for the last few weeks. She was back and she was never leaving. This, Alanna, the Lioness, the King's Champion, it was her home. Her life. Everything.

She galloped from the stables, across the training grounds and past the gate to the court where the heat of the battle was occurring. She met her first foe at the portal. Grinning maniacally, she cut him down in barely two strokes as he made a futile defense. Hurrying on, she found Jon among the soldiers.

"Have you assembled the forces?" She cried above the clang of weapons and shields. Looking startled, Jon shook his head in agreement. "And Raoul has the pages and knights here?" Again, Jon only nodded. The flabbergasted look on the prince's face slightly rattled her confidence. What was so perplexing? They'd fought in battles before. She'd seen Jon's skill and his technique.

"Get out there and fight, Jon! You are a prince and you will defend your country. They need your leadership! You go out there and be courageous, be brace! Pretend, for all I care! You know how to, I've seen it. You're a brilliant man. Now's your chance to prove it." Without another word, Alanna urged Moonlight away, back into the heart of the battle. If she had to, she'd fight to the death, just to encourage these poor pages. Someone had to lead an army and today, that someone might just have to be a woman.

Gazing over the passionate battlefield, she was relieved to see its end. There wasn't more than two hundred of the island rebels. Glancing at the archers guarded at the doors, she scowled. They should be in the towers, where they were harder targets to hit. She forced Moonlight forward to them. weaving through the clumps of men.

"Get to the walls, the windows!" She shouted she shouted at a lieutenant. "If you're here, you're in the line of fire. Go!" She barked and the men scattered, following orders. Turning, Alanna charged back into a mass of red uniforms.

The next few minutes passed in a blur. Rather quickly, Alanna had dismounted and joined the fight on foot. A mixture of sweat and blood coated her face from her exertions. She was, for some unknown reason, observed warily by her own troops as she approached. It was irritating, but it wasn't a demanding topic at the moment, so she continued on.

"A woman with a sword?" An enemy troop cried with amusement as he approached the champion. "That's hysterical! Tortall's men couldn't fight their own battles, so they send women instead?" He sneered. Furious, Alanna threw a grave blow forward, but it was blocked by the heavy man. He, in return, took the offense and swung with vengeance back at her. She blocked it, but just in the knick of time. Alanna panted as she regrouped. She was exhausted and this man's brute strength could easily overpower her if their encounter lasted much longer. She shook away the anxiety that pierced her foggy mind.

But she lost focus and for a split second, lost track of the man's position. And then, before she could blink, she was suddenly on the ground while her sword clattered away from her into the coarse dirt. His own weapon was sharp against the back of her neck as she stared disbelievingly at her useless sword an arm's length away.

"It's a shame, really. A woman like you should be kept as a live trophy, not a dead one. But, orders are orders . . ." He shrugged regrettably. Lifting his weapon, with his the sole of his boot on the small of her back, he placed the majority of his weight on her. She couldn't move. Blood running cold, she braced herself at the same time that she tried to steel the panicked nerves within her. If she was going to die, it was going to be as an honorable knight. _But Mithros_, she prayed, _**please**__ intervene._ She closed her eyes and prepared for the blow.

* * *

And then Rae made a marvelous comback. Did you enjoy? Tell me how much and I may post the last few chapters this century...or this weekend....

Press the button, You know you want to....


	13. Chapter 13

Alanna winced as the sword lunged forward. But, just as she anticipated it to reach her throat, a large clatter of metal rang through her ears. Opening her eyes, she realized with great relief that she was alive and the sword formerly threatening her was in front of her on the ground. The soldier's weight disappeared from her torso and she rolled back to her feet, simultaneously grabbing her weapon, which was only an arm's length away. She glanced up and nearly staggered from the sight of the man before her. George. George was the one who had saved her. She ran across the dirt and threw herself into his arms, careful that her sword didn't slice him. He held her tightly, sighing. He hadn't been sure he was going reach her in time.

"You're a sight for sore eyes." She whispered shakily. He grinned into her black hair, kissing her cheek and then her mouth with unwavering passion.

"Just don't die on me, all right, Love?" He winked.

"George, I had no idea you were so romantic." She teased. He grinned widely.

"I just prefer you alive. That's all." He retorted. Alanna laughed, aghast. Then, before she could respond, his smile disappeared and he shoved her away to take his next attacker, meeting his opponent's sword with a blow of sheer strength. Frozen in awe for a moment simply watching him, Alanna was forced to recover and pull herself back to the battle. She turned to face her newest foe.

She cut him down and ran to the top of the hill to watch how the battle had progressed. Just as she reached the top however, another brute of a man approached her and began to hack at her armor. He was bearded and decorated with accolades. Alanna deduced him to be a lieutenant or general.

"You must be Alanna, your pathetic king's champion. I've heard of you, but I must admit, they had your description all wrong, though I suppse they can describe you however they want when you're dead." Alanna lunged with fury, locking their swords.

"Over my dead body." She hissed. He grinned, egging her on.

"That's the plan." He countered. Alanna growled, scowling.

The fight flew by in a blur and Alanna hardly remembered what happened until she had slit both of his biceps, leaving him with no way to fight. He dropped his bloody sword as he fell to his knees.

"Alanna of Tortall, you are better than I." He admitted remorsefully, collapsing to the dirt. Alanna shoved past him to get to the viewpoint atop the hill. As she glanced over the courtyard, her heart soared. They were running away! Her troops had won!

"They're retreating!" She shouted joyously, her elation spreading to the soldiers around her, who watched their opponents turn away from the battle. "We've won!" Alanna cried. She sprinted down to the mouth of the castle to join the elites assembling to decide what would be done with the captives and wounded. The lesser ranking soldiers secured the castle boundaries as the island troops conceded defeat. As Alanna ran, she was appalled to find that her side pinched from being out of shape. She'd have to get working now that her façade was over. _No more dresses!_ She thought with a smirk. She scrambled down the hillside before she met the group of men.

"We won!" Raoul cried, clapping Jon on the back.

"We did it! We pulled together and defended a surprise attack!" Alanna shouted, embracing Jon in her excitement. He let her go hesitantly, keeping her hand in his as he studied her with wide eyes. Around him, the other men fell silent, sensing their leader's tense state. He stared for a long time at her face and then at her chest plate, emblazoned with a fierce lion.

"Alanna?" He finally asked bemusedly. Alanna grinned.

"Who else, Silly?" She asked. A look of shock spreading across his face, Jon reached up and gently pulled on her hair. Effortlessly, the black wig fell into his bloody and empty hands. A collective gasp went up through the gatherers. Alanna looked back at George, who was only capable to smirking. If he did anything else, his laughter would break loose.

"Whoops." She breathed sheepishly, averting her eyes from the masses. She'd just unlocked hell. This would be fun.


End file.
